Picture
by detective-sweetheart
Summary: And there the three of us were, our backs to the camera as we walked out of our high school for the last time…ready to take on whatever the world had to throw at us.


A/N: This is what I get for going through my stuff and finding one of my old yearbooks...meh. Anyways, hope this doesn't suck too bad, it's another one of those spur of the moment things that I'm fond of doing, so, yeah. And H:LOTS isn't mine.

* * *

"What are we supposed to be doing up here?" Summer had fallen upon the city; it was already unbearably hot downstairs as it was; in the attic, it was even worse. Rose glanced at me over Abby's shoulder and rolled her eyes.

"We're supposed to be cleaning," she told me. "If you didn't want to help, you shouldn't have come over."

"I didn't have a choice," I replied dryly. "Kai's been bothering me to come over here ever since we took the night shift again."

"You could have told her no," Abby pointed out, smirking. I gave her a look.

"And then I'd have to put up with being ignored for the rest of the week," I told her. "I'd rather help the two of you than be ignored."

"You're a pushover," said Rose. "Kai is only ten. She can only ignore you for so long."

"You'd be surprised," I remarked. They exchanged glances and shook their heads before Rose kicked at a few boxes and then bent down to open them, whistling.

"Wow," she said. "Haven't seen any of this in a while."

"That's why it's in the attic," Abby said dryly. "You're not _supposed_ to see it. You're supposed to forget it's there and then get all nostalgic when you finally come up here to get organized."

"That's great, Abby," Rose said mildly. "Most of this stuff is garbage anyways. We should've come up here a long time ago."

"Some of us actually have lives," said Abby. "If you wanted to come up here, you should've done it yourself instead of dragging me and John to help you."

"You two don't have anything else to do," said Rose, "Might as well make yourselves useful."

"So, what?" I asked. "We're not useful unless we're standing here at your beck and call?"

Rose laughed. "That's not what I meant," she said. "Don't just stand there, though, come help me go through this stuff."

"This is exactly what I wanted to be doing, you know," Abby said sarcastically as we sat on either side of Rose, who rolled her eyes in mock exasperation while Abby continued. "Most of this stuff is from God only knows how long. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is going to be?"

"That's why they say leave it in the past, Abby," I said. "Besides, half of this is going in the trash, anyway."

"Maybe more than half," said Rose. She opened a few more boxes and leaned back against an old chair. "We might as well start with these."

"This is like, what? Five years' worth of our lives?" Abby asked, pulling one of the boxes towards her. "I still don't see why we didn't just trash it all when Mom died."

"Because it has sentimental value," I said, mock seriously. "You wouldn't want to throw away something that could be passed on to the future generations, would you?"

"Seeing as I have no children," said Abby. "Anything that was passed on would go to one of Rose's kids, and it's not like they're gonna care."

"They will one of these days," said Rose. "Hand me those boxes, huh?" Abby and I both picked up a box and set it down, pushing it over to her.

"This is going to take all day," I said. "How many of these do you have?" Rose shrugged.

"No idea." she said. Abby and I exchanged looks of mock surprise before turning to face her.

"You don't know?" I asked. "I thought you were supposed to know everything." She rolled her eyes and swatted at me.

"Cute," she said. "Just because I happen to know more about what goes on around here than the two of you…"

"We get the point," Abby said, cutting her off before she could go on. "God, can you believe Mom kept this?" She held up a yearbook that we recognized from our last year in elementary school; Rose took it from her and flipped it open.

"Wow," she said. "Look at this." She shook her head as she flipped a few pages. "Either of you remember whose class we were in?"

"The names are by the faces," I said. "You can still read, can't you?" Rose gave me a look and flipped a few more pages before stopping.

"Well, there's you and Abby," she said, pointing. "Guess we got split up that year."

"Don't tell me you forgot that," said Abby, making a face as she leaned over to examine her photograph. "And for the record, Rose, there's a reason why we want to forget about this stuff."

"Considering that this was back quite a few years," said Rose. "It's actually not that bad."

"I'm starting to think that you're the one who needs glasses," said Abby. "We look awful."

"I have the feeling you're only saying that because of the way things are now," I said, shifting so that I could see the pages they were examining. "She does have a point, though, Rose."

"Fine. Hand me that garbage bag over there, huh?" Rose said in reply. I did, and in went the yearbook.

"You're really going to throw that away?" Abby asked. Rose gave her an annoyed look.

"Yes," she said, "I'm throwing it away. We don't need it and it's only taking up space. Besides, what sentimental value could that have? We weren't even in the same class."

"There, you see?" Abby asked, turning to face me. "She's starting to think like us now."

"I'm not too sure that's a good thing," I replied. "If she starts thinking like us, who's going to take care of the kids?"

"You two are real amusing, you know that?" Rose asked sarcastically. "I'm not starting to think like you, so quit worrying." She reached back into the box and drew out a bunch of drawings. "These are definitely going."

"What time is it?" I asked. Abby glanced at her watch and then looked up at me.

"It's barely ten," she said, "And you're not going anywhere, so don't even think about it."

"I wasn't," I told her. "I just didn't have a chance to look at a clock before you two dragged me up here."

"You came of your own volition," said Rose, turning a few boxes over one by one and emptying their contents onto the attic floor.

"Great, Rose," said Abby, "Make it more of a mess than it already is, will you?"

"This'll make it easier to see what we're doing," said Rose, choosing to ignore this comment. "You find anything you want to keep, just set it aside, but everything else goes."

"Yes, Mother," Abby said dryly. "I'm pretty sure I remember how to clean an attic."

"Could've fooled me," Rose muttered. "We've got way too much stuff around here."

"Well, then, it's a good thing you have a place to put it," I said. "It's already crowded downstairs as it is."

"Oh, it is not," said Rose, reaching for a second garbage bag. Already the floor she'd managed to clutter up a few seconds before was starting to look clearer.

"How the hell do you do this?" Abby demanded after what seemed to be a few hours of overturning boxes to go through them. "I swear, you've got to be the most organized person I know."

"Exactly," said Rose, without looking up. "What would you do without me?" Abby pretended to think for a minute before grinning.

"Absolutely nothing," she said, throwing away what little still remained on the floor. "I'd probably just lie around all day without you telling me what to do."

"I wouldn't put it past you," I said, and she threw an old stuffed doll at me, but missed.

"You've got no aim, Abby," Rose said, eyeing the distance that the doll had traveled and shaking her head. "This half of the attic wasn't even that crowded. We're halfway done with it."

"Says you." Abby pushed an empty box at her, rolling her eyes. "You can put trash in this one."

"Thanks," Rose replied absently. She pushed the pile of scrapbooks she'd been looking at over to the side. "Leave those there, I'm keeping them."

"Why?" I asked. "They're not finished, and they're probably not going to _get_ finished, either."

"They'll get finished," Rose said, casting me an annoyed look. "When the kids are out of the house, that is."

"I suppose you'll want to keep these, too, then," said Abby, pushing two more boxes at her. "Pictures."

"Yeah, keep those," said Rose. "I'm going to need them. These are yours, by the way." She pushed various ribbons at Abby, who made a face.

"Toss 'em," she said, "What do I need them for?" Rose shrugged and reached for the empty box behind her, throwing the ribbons inside and then glancing at the mess that still remained.

"I take that back," she said. "We're probably going to barely get through this side of things today."

"Good," I said, "And don't count on me coming over tomorrow if this is all you're going to do."

"I should live to see the day you don't show up over here," Abby muttered. "Throw this away, huh?"

I did, and then turned to face her. "You really don't care about any of this, do you?" I asked.

"She does," said Rose, before Abby could answer. "She's just not going to act like it."

"Thanks, Rose," Abby said dryly, "I think I can answer for myself. And for the record, I do care. Just not about this stuff." She upended a box of baby clothes and Rose laughed.

"I forgot I still had those," she said. "Might as well keep 'em. Liana's probably going to need 'em in a few years."

"That'll be the day," I said. "Do you have any idea how weird it is to think that she's old enough to have a kid?"  
"She was old enough when she was thirteen, she just wasn't stupid," said Abby. "I suppose you'll want to be keeping this, too?" Rose glanced at the box she'd opened and nodded.

"Just push it over there, we've still got all of this stuff to go through," she said, scooting over to where we were, sitting in the middle of what appeared to be ten years' worth of our lives.

"You're right, you know," I told her. "There's no way in hell we're getting through all of this today."

"I wasn't planning on it," said Rose. Abby snorted.

"Yeah, right," she said. "The first thing you said to me this morning was that we were going to get through the entire attic if it killed us, which, I might add, it's about to do."

"I can't control the weather," said Rose, "And I changed my mind. We'll do half of it today, and finish the other half of it tomorrow. Most of this is ours, anyways. The other side is all the kids'."

"I figured," said Abby, holding up another yearbook. "Look what I found."

Rose and I both leaned forward; a few seconds later, both of us laughed, shaking our heads.

"Now that one I can believe Mom kept," said Rose. "Let me take a look at it, huh?"

"Hell no," said Abby. "This one's going in the trash, just like all the other ones we've found."

"Why?" I asked. "I've still got mine."

"You still have your senior yearbook?" Rose asked in reply. "You're the very one I'd have thought would throw it away after a few years."

"Thanks," I said dryly. "Some things like that are actually worth keeping, and besides, it's not like we're ever going back, so why _not_ keep it?"

"Because we looked like idiots back then," said Abby, making a face as she opened it. "I mean, really. Look at this. Could it have gotten any worse?"

"We could have graduated in the eighties," I pointed out, "That would have been worse."

"Considering the things we considered clothes back then, I'd have to agree," said Rose. "Let me see that."

Abby handed her the yearbook and leaned back against a stack of boxes nearby, shaking her head. "You're actually going to look through that?" she asked.

"Yeah, I am," said Rose. "It's not as bad as you think it is."

"Most of the things the three of us did in high school are best left forgotten," I told her. "Unless you want to tell your kids and have them trying the same things."

"They know better than that by now," said Rose, "At least, I hope so." She paused for a second and then laughed. "Oh, my God. Look at this."  
"See? What did I tell you?" said Abby. "You look ridiculous."

"Compared to now, yes," I said, "But that was the first year Rose had a boyfriend, if I remember correctly."

"You remember too much for your own good," Rose muttered as Abby smirked. "There, look. There's Abby now."

"If anyone looked ridiculous back then, it was her," I said, and Abby leaned over to swat at me.

"I did not," she said, "Well…maybe a little." She scooted closer to Rose, who had settled into a place in between us and bent over the book. "Flip to the back, huh? I want to see what everyone wrote."

"You do realize that we probably don't even remember who most of these people are, right?" I asked as Rose started to turn back to where all the signatures were. Before she got there, however, Abby stopped her.

"Hey," she said, pointing at the last page of pictures in the book. "You guys remember that?"

Rose and I both looked to where she was pointing, and then back up at her before all three of us looked down again at the last picture in the yearbook.

And there the three of us were, our backs to the camera as we walked out of our high school for the last time…ready to take on whatever the world had to throw at us.


End file.
